


You

by AustralianSpy



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Explicit Language, M/M, POV Sebastian Moran, Post-The Reichenbach Fall
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-09-14
Updated: 2013-09-14
Packaged: 2017-12-26 13:56:04
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 648
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/966720
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AustralianSpy/pseuds/AustralianSpy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>What's a sniper without his boss?</p>
            </blockquote>





	You

I miss you. 

I miss your stupid suits, and how obsessive you were over them. 

I miss trying to con you into eating by making the food myself. I think you felt bad that I couldn’t cook worth a damn, so you’d stomach it. Or maybe you were just humoring me for your own amusement.

I miss those ridiculous tantrums you’d throw at odd hours, for no reason you’d explain to me. When I’d come home and find you’d broken half the china in the house, and had to go out and buy more.

I miss pulling the trigger under your orders, and the way you’d purr your praises, afterwards.

I miss you telling me you hated me. Like you were trying to convince yourself of the fact more than inform me of it.

I miss you bossing me around like I was some kind of damned butler. I think I was secretly glad to be doing your dishes and running your errands, though. Because you could’ve hired anyone to do that shit, boss. But you never did. You’d only let me do it.

I miss hearing those little noises in the middle of the night that told me you were still awake doing God knows what.

I miss coming home to hear you playing that piano of yours, even though you’d stop as soon as you realized I was there.

I miss how you’d obsess over Sherlock. Curly-haired git. What was so great about him, huh? I probably know half the bloke’s life story, with how much you nattered on about him. I think you cared about him more than you cared about yourself.

I miss the way you’d bitch and moan when it was even slightly hot outside. Like you thought I could make the damned sun turn it down a few notches, or somethin’ else equally ridiculous.

I miss you calling me ‘tiger’ all the time.

I miss how jealous you’d get when I’d tell ya I’d been out with someone. You’d play it off whenever I’d point it out, but it was obvious. You were always so damned possessive but never did a thing about it.

I miss all the times you’d change my ringtone. It was always somethin’ fuckin’ stupid. Havin’ to do with cats or tigers. What’s New Pussycat was the worst one. I’ve changed it to Stayin’ Alive, now. Thought you’d appreciate that.

I miss all the times you’d yell at me for being a slob. Threatening to make me eat my own fingers if I didn’t pick all my clothes off the floor, or hang my coat where I was supposed to. I do all that, now. The flat’s clean as a whistle.

I miss how you’d scoff when I’d suggest we get a pet. I can’t bring myself to get one, now. Even though I could. Wouldn’t be the same.

I miss how you’d blow your top whenever I’d call you a midget.

I miss how I could get you to go to sleep and stay asleep. Don’t think you ever even realized. I always tried to be sneaky about it. Creep into the bed when you were havin’ a nightmare. Keep quiet and slip back out before you woke up.

I miss how you didn’t know a damn thing about movies or anything. All the Star Wars references and all that, that you didn’t get. 

I miss you trying to stuff me into posh clothes. I wear ‘em, sometimes. Just because. You’d be all proud, if you could see. I still hate ‘em, of course.

I miss all your little plots and schemes. How dastardly and wicked you could be, with ‘em. They were always so clever. Better than anything I could come up with. That’s why you were the boss, of course.

I miss being at your shoulder all the time.

I miss us.

I miss you.


End file.
